


All Loved Pup

by Agoodcaptain



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Old Fic, South African cricket boys being cute, rareship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27278212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agoodcaptain/pseuds/Agoodcaptain
Summary: Dale comes home from visiting his parents to find Morne has done something rather rash
Relationships: Morné Morkel/Dale Steyn
Kudos: 3





	All Loved Pup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rosetylars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosetylars/gifts).



> Another one of my old fics I found, I read the lovely rosetylars Pitch Puppy fic, which I loved and got reminded about this so thought I'd dig it out for her. It's another Dale/Morne ship. I must have been asked to write this one in the past. It's short, sweet and super fluffy - pun intended. Hope you like.

Living with his boyfriend, the gorgeous Mr. Morné Morkel, Dale Steyn was used to coming home to strange sights. There was the time Morné was practising yoga in his tighty-whities listening to some sort of whale music, the image of which was permanently burnt into Dale’s mind. Then there was the irrepressible memory of Morné waxing his chest, and try as he might Dale couldn’t forget about returning from training with the national squad to nurse Morné who had stayed at home with an injured hand, and when Dale walked through the door… well Dale’s hand didn’t appear to be all that injured...

But today had to take the biscuit. For as soon as Dale walked into the door heavily laden with shopping bags, he was confronted with the sight of a tiny fluffy puppy urinating on his cricket gear. Dale wasn’t thinking coherently enough to get out intelligible words but swearing was such a reflex to him that he was able to scream out “Mother-fucking-bastard-shitting cock face.” The noise was enough to have the creature trembling in the corner but there was no further movement from the house. Dale collected himself enough to realise something of what was going on, or at least who was responsible for it. He titled his head back and like the lions he had grown up around in Kruger National Park, he roared: “Morné Morkel.”

A sheepish Morné eventually appeared at the top of the stairs, feigning obliviousness. “Hello, darling, how was your parents? Let me help with those bags. You must be tired.” Morné didn’t pause for breath, hoping the longer he kept Dale from talking, the longer he had to think of an explanation.  
“Morras, what the hell is that?” Dale pointed a shaking finger at the dog, which had recovered from his cowering and was now happily licking his testicles. Morné weakened and rushed over to pick up the puppy, who responded to the interruption to his hygiene routine by biting Morné on the thumb. Hard.  
“Ow! He’s not a what, he’s a him.”  
“What?”  
“He’s Captain. Or Cap for short. Captain Protea when he’s naughty.”  
“I see, very clever. And what is Captain doing here?”  
“Erm… I adopted him.”

Dale was about to erupt but he didn’t want to elicit more body fluid from the panicked puppy and he had promised himself, as well as Morné, that he would keep a check on his temper. He breathed in and out, taking the food into the kitchen and putting it away while counting slowly in his head. When he had finished putting away the last tin, Dale turned to see Morné had followed him in.  
“I know I should have told you, but I just fell in love with him.”  
Dale’s counting sped up.  
“Please don’t be mad at me,” Morné tried again.  
Dale started to count out loud now, “Ninety two, ninety three, ninety four…”  
“Don’t count at me, Dale, you know I hate that. Talk to me.”  
“Talk to you, I want to yell at-“ Dale stopped himself, “Mor, I was gone four bloody days and in that time, we have acquired a new roommate that is needy, and expensive, and hairy and who has just urinated on my new fucking tekkies.”

Dale looked up to see Morné’s blue eyes looking more puppy dog than usual, all round and brimming with tears. Despite the anger he had been feeling, Dale couldn’t help but rush to his boyfriend.  
“Baby,” Dale soothed, his rage rapidly seeping as tears splashed onto Dale’s hands as he reached up to stroke Morné’s cheeks.  
“You don’t get it,” Morné finally whispered when the tears slowed.  
“Then tell me,” Dale said, looking into Morné’s eyes.

* * *

Five minutes later, the kettle boiled, Dale and Morné were curled up on the sofa together, Captain between them and tea in hand. Dale patiently waited for Morné to start talking, sipping his tea and absentmindedly stroking Captain’s curly fur as the dog slowly drifted off to sleep. After what seemed like forever, Morné stopped looking out the window and turned to Dale,  
“Look, I know we don’t have the easiest life to accommodate a pet, but-”  
“Mor, we’re like ships passing in the night as it is, shuttling between Pretoria and Cape Town, when I’m not in Oz, or we’re both in India, or on tour. How do you see this working?”  
Dale looked over at Morné to see him staring sadly at the puppy on both of their laps, and realised he had just steamrolled him. Dale always accused of Morné of bottling up emotions but Morné then retorted that it was hard for him to get a word in edgeways.  
“Sorry. You were talking,” Dale conceded.  
“Nah. Don’t worry,” Morné deflected, looking down into his empty mug and making to get up from the sofa, carefully shifting Captain off. Dale grabbed the taller bowler’s wrists, preventing him from leaving.  
“I’m listening, I really am.”  
Morné hovered for a moment before sitting back down and Dale took this as a good sign, though Morné still wouldn’t look directly at him.  
“I know we’re not a normal couple,” Morné began, playing with Captain’s ears, “I know we can’t tell anyone we’re together, I know we can’t go on holiday, I know you can’t take me home to meet your parents, I know we have to have an extra bedroom in our house,”  
Morné sniffed, the tears threatening to return and Dale placed his hand over Morné’s, as if to tell him that he knew his pain, and felt it too.  
Morné took a breath, “I just wanted this one thing. Let us have this one thing together.”

Dale moved his hand up Morné’s arm and held him by the shoulder, feeling a surge of love for his boyfriend. How could he take this away from him? Morné asked for so little in their relationship, and the world around them granted them even less, how could Dale deny the man he loved this?  
“Okay, baby, we can keep the dog,”  
“Really?” Morné screeched, turning his bluer-than-the-Indian-Ocean eyes on Dale, and causing Dale’s heart to either drop ten stories, or leap into his throat, he wasn’t sure which.  
“Yeah. You’re right; we should have this one thing. Though he’s not a thing. He’s a him. He’s Cap. He’s Captain. He’s Captain Protea.”  
Morné launched himself at Dale, crashing their lips together and causing Cap to wake with a start (and a knee-trembling fart) and race from their laps and leap into Dale’s bag.  
“Is he going to do that every time we kiss?” Dale laughed, “Because we could end up with a serious smell problem,”  
“At least you’ll have someone to blame yours on,” Morné added, getting up from the sofa.  
But Morné only made it a few steps before Dale had tackled him to the floor and Captain, thrilled by the new game, jumped on top of his new owners and woofed in delight.


End file.
